Gordon's Purgatory
by PiraBats3
Summary: What exactly happened to Lt. Jim Gordon while he was thought to be dead by all of Gotham? Gordon's POV.


At first there was a ringing. A consistent, monotone ringing that drown out anything else that might imply that I, indeed, was still alive. But surely the throbbing pain in my back meant I was alive. I felt my fingers twitch as the ringing began to subside to worse sounds: screams. Screams and sporadic gunfire.

I barely opened my eyes, in case I was in a bad position, to glance around. I was still on the stage, face towards the sky, glasses half off my face, left leg curled under the other. Detective Stephens was kneeled at my side, a look of distress on his face as he glanced around the area in front of him, both hands on his knees, his right still holding his gun. I shifted my eyes, still careful not to open them enough for Stephens to notice, and caught glimpses of scattered figures dashing in and out of my vision. People running.

Three more gunshots, a dozen more screams.

My eyes shifted to the other side, to where the Mayor would be if that maniac managed to shoot him after he shot me. But the white stage was empty. I had done my part.

Now for the act.

Not only would this give me an advantage, but my wife, my daughter, my son would stay out of harm's way. The psychopath would have no reason to go after them now.

* * *

The street was quiet when I felt myself being lifted by two men. They hadn't even bothered to check my pulse, assuming the worse. At any other time I might have shouted a few select words for their carelessness, but this was a good exception. I would get away undetected.

I confirmed my suspicions of being set on a stretcher as soon as I felt the thing beneath me shudder rhythmically against the asphalt. Moments later I was lifted into an ambulance, no doubt, and we were quickly moving.

No sirens; I was already dead.

What a surprise I would be for the poor paramedic that sat next to me.

I finally opened my eyes fully, glad to see that my glasses had been put back on as well as seeing that the paramedic was more interested in the conversation he and the two in the front were having through the window. Slowly I sat up, my eyes on the medic, careful not to catch his attention.

"How much longer do you think this is going to continue?" one of them asked loud enough to reach my ears as I fully sat up. It was a female voice, from the passenger seat.

"I don't know. I always thought the Batman was helping Gotham, but now I'm not so sure." The medic who was supposed to be watching me.

"If he really wanted to help, he'd tell the clown who he was." The driver.

"But what'll happen if the Batman turns himself in? It won't automatically mean that the Joker will just disappear, and I don't think anyone besides the Batman can handle that madman." I liked the woman, she was open minded. I knew the consequences of Batman turning himself in, and I desperately hoped, for Gotham's sake, for all of our sakes, that the Dark Knight did too.

As soon as the van came to a stop, I decided to speak up. Now was as good of a time as any-at least the ambulance driver wouldn't be startled into an accident. "Excuse me..." As I had anticipated, the medic seated next to me jumped, cursing. The other two also swiveled around, the van lurching forward as the driver was surprised enough to release the gas pedal. "I don't mean to startle you, but I need a favor from you three."

* * *

I made it as far as the nearest alley before stopping to lean heavily against the wall and catch my breath. I wasn't as young as I used to be, and the bullet-proof vest hidden underneath the heavy jacket combined with the constant throbbing from where the bullet had undoubtedly left a deep bruise was taking its toll. Once I could stand up straight, I ripped off my jacket and pulled off the vest before throwing it to the ground.

Better.

But now what?

I hadn't planned this far. I had to stay close to the G.C.P.D. I had to keep up with what was going on. As I had hoped earlier, I could use my 'death' as an advantage. But it would have to wait. Wandering around in broad daylight would gain someone's unwanted attention. I pulled out my gun as I leaned back against the wall to check the cylinder. Fully loaded. I, of all people, knew how dangerous Gotham's alleyways were at all times of the day; it was good to be prepared. Slipping down the wall to relax into a sitting position on the ground, I would wait out the last of the daylight hours with my gun resting on my thigh, slightly hidden by a couple of dumpsters.

The cold brick through my shirt didn't help my back.

Sticking to just the alleyways was harder than I had originally anticipated. Even with my jacket on and the collars pulled up to hide the lower half of my face, my glasses were enough to allow anyone that watched GCN often enough to recognize me. So I had to avoid the main streets, stick to the alleys and the shadows; like Batman.

So this is a hint as to what it feels like. Sneaking around to keep stealth, hiding your identity out of fear. Fear that the people we strived to protect would be sacrificed. As much as I admired the man who took it upon himself to help save this city, that had to be the reason for keeping his identity a secret, especially now. If the world knew who was underneath that terrifying cowl, his friends and family, if the man had any, would be at risk, all of Gotham would be at risk. If the world knew, there would be no Batman and Gotham would be left to fend for itself with a still corrupt police force trying to help. As much as I trusted the detectives underneath me in the M.C.U., the rest of the cops made me have my doubts. In this city, it was impossible to rid corruption…for now.

It was true, though, I was curious enough to wonder who had that much strength, intelligence, technology, and willpower to take on Gotham's worst every night without any outside incentive. I had my fair share of guesses, but none of them could be accurate. The ones who had enough money to have the technology that the Batman had didn't care enough, otherwise they'd be spending their money in better ways during the day. Anyone I knew who had as much intelligence as the mysterious man didn't have any brawns, and the reverse was true as well. And other than the Batman, Harvey Dent, and Rachel Dawes, I had yet to meet a person who would be willing to do something so strenuous, so life consuming, without anything in return.

Finally, the four-story G.C.P.D. building loomed out in the darkness. I don't think I've ever been more relieved or more afraid in my life. I looked over the backside of the old building, wondering now how I was going to get in undetected. As much time as I had during the day, I had yet to come up with a plan to get myself inside.

The wind shifted, allowing it to breeze through the alley instead of being blocked by the buildings that had previous been helping me in that aspect, and something creaked. The fire escape. Time to try another one of Batman's defining talents: sneaking into my office unnoticed. He had done it the first time I met him without his fancy technology, I think I could do it now.

I took me three tries at a running jump to finally get my hands to catch on the last ring of the rusty ladder. As I swung backwards after the initial catch, I felt the rust dig into my fingers. Note to self: get a Tetanus booster. I didn't wait until I had stopped swinging to begin my climb up to the second floor, and once I reached it, I now understood one of the reasons as to why Batman wore gloves. I stopped to take a breather as I tried to examine my hands in the nonexistent light. The streetlight at the end of the alley was broken and the moon, as usual, was hidden behind the almost constant cloud cover. Maybe it was a good thing I couldn't see how bad they were.

I wiped them on the sides of my pants before moving to continue to the next floor, the floor my office resided on. I peeked inside the slightly open blinds to find the cluttered room dark and untouched. The door across the room was shut with the blinds pulled over the window with the black lettering: Lt. James Gordon. The window in front of me was open, the way I always kept it ever since Batman had made it a habit to drop in announced. It had seemed pointless to me to keep it locked as it was just a hassle he had to deal with. Now it came in handy.

I slipped silently into the office and paused to listen to whatever else might be going on nearby. But everything was quiet. A distant phone rang, murmurs came from a conversation down the hall. No footsteps nearby. Without turning on a light, I began to semi-blindly search for the trunk that I never kept track of. It always managed to disappear underneath papers due to its lack of use and often shifted around the room, moving whenever it was in my way.

I found it when I nearly tripped over it, catching myself as I knocked over a few stacks of folders. Carefully, I piled up the rest of the papers and folders that remained on top of the black case and set them on the floor next to me before I squinted at the combination lock.

What was the damn combination?

Wait, James' birthday: 3 5 96. My fingers flicked the four little dials to the correct numbers, my eyes narrowing to make sure they were right. Click. I pulled off the lock and set it on top of the stack of folders next to me before pushing open the top of the trunk. Inside was just what I was looking for: my old riot gear. I pulled out what I needed, face goggles, a helmet, a new bullet proof vest (as I had left the last one in one of the dumpsters), and a S.W.A.T. labeled jacket. After relocking the trunk and spreading out the folders and papers once more, I gathered up everything into my arms and headed towards the tiny closet. After flipping on the tiny light, it took me an extra moment to move everything on the floor with my feet to sit in front of the door before I could dump all of my gear. Then I quickly adjusted everything in the closed to sit in front of the door to give me a place to hide in case anyone had enough time on their hands to even think about cleaning out my office. Once I was satisfied with the setup, I headed back into my office to rummage quietly through my desk in search of five things: a new pair of glasses, a radio, a mini-television, batteries, and the various snacks I had stashed in my desk in case I ever sat down long enough to actually eat (there was bottled water in the closet). Hopefully they were still good.

Once I found these new items, I headed back into the closet and shut the door behind me. Setting everything up once again, I turned off and unscrewed the light bulb before settling on the floor in the back corner of my closet as I flipped on both the television and the radio to the minimum volume.

* * *

I yawned as I pushed up my glasses to rub my eyes. The tiny glow of the television that was propped on my lap filled my face and caused my newly opened eyes to narrow. Glancing down at the watch that adorned my wrist, a birthday present from Barbara several years ago, I noted the time: 8:25am.

My eyes refocused on the tiny television in front of me and it took me a moment to process what was going on.

"…Dent's ordered an urgent press conference at nine A.M. this morning. The district attorney has not specified what the press conference will be about, but many have speculated that Batman has decided to step forward…"

My eyes narrowed as anger began to boil within me. The speculations were right, I knew that, but why was Batman giving himself in? Surely he was smart enough to know the consequences. Yes, people were dying, but this was something he had to endure, we all had to endure. I paused all my other thoughts, my boiling anger, when another thought entered my mind: what if it was because of me? I had faked my death to protect my family, but what if it hurt Gotham?

There was nothing I could do now but watch.

* * *

There stood Harvey Dent, blonde haired, blue eyed, and handsome faced, the White Knight of Gotham. Even on the miniature television screen, he still looked the part. Even if he and I didn't see eye to eye, I couldn't deny his influence and willpower. The three of us, a triangle of respect but doubt; we all respected each other, well I hoped Batman respected Harvey and I, but we all had our doubts about each other. Even though I had put a lot more trust into Batman, like now as I sat here, hidden in my own closet, there was still room for doubt. It seemed he only had one rule, and as long as he didn't break that one rule, all was fair. I, as both a cop and a man, knew I wasn't comfortable with that ideology.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I've called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to assure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done. Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in—"_

"_So where is he?"_ asked a man who had spoken too quickly for the cameramen to catch a picture of him. Instead the camera remained on Harvey's face as he ignored the comment.

"_But first, let's consider the situation: should we give into this terrorist's demands? Do we really think that—"_

"_You'd rather protect an outlaw vigilante than the lives of citizens?"_ This time the camera caught the heckler: a black woman who was standing along the back wall next to a camera man and…Bruce Wayne? What in the world was that flamboyant billionaire doing there?

The camera switched back to Harvey as he hesitated, trying to find a way to win over the muttering crowd in front of him. _"The Batman _is_ an outlaw, but that's not why we're demanding he turn himself in. We're doing it because we're scared. We've been happy to let the Batman clean up our streets until now—"_

"_Things are worse than ever!"_ Another unknown heckler.

This time, Harvey paused for effect as he leaned closer to the podium. He knew what he was going to say._ "Yes. They are. But the night is darkness before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming." _The conference room was quiet enough that I could hear the faint sound of a telephone ringing. Leave it to Gotham to have crime occurring at nine o'clock in the morning when everyone was watching this very important press conference. _"One day, the Batman will have to answer for the laws he's broken, but to us, not to this madman."_

There was a brief pause of silence as the camera scanned the awed and thoughtful crowd: Harvey at his best.

And then a cop, one of my cops, shouted out, _"No more dead cops!"_

_Just you wait, Johnson. Once I get my hands on you…_

"_He should turn himself in!"_

The camera flashed back to Harvey, looking far different from what he looked like a few seconds before. Instead of hopeful, powerful, and confident, he was crestfallen. He backed away from the podium, _"So be it. Take the Batman into custody."_

A confused hush ascended the crowd again as I held my breath. _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it._

"_I am the Batman."_

My eyes widened at Gotham's White, not Dark, Knight. The crowd's murmurs rose, an occasional shout of disbelief as he was put in handcuffs. Of course most people weren't going to believe him. What was Harvey doing?

Wait.

That was it, that was perfect. I could see Harvey's plan come into play now. Maybe that was what Batman was up to all along, the real mastermind. Harvey pretend to be Batman, as I knew for a fact he wasn't, and when the Joker came after him during transport, the real Batman will take him down.

And I will be there for backup, in case something goes wrong. I will be there to keep Harvey Dent from the Joker, to keep him alive.

I had to get into that convoy.

* * *

The sun had already dipped behind the larger buildings of the older downtown area, drawing long shadows across the dirty buildings and sidewalks. I, dressed fully in my S.W.A.T. riot gear, walked out of the G.C.P.D., fully armed and with purpose, and headed towards the parked convoy. Already, the S.W.A.T. van in front the holding van was loaded, the back doors wide open to reveal the dozen armed and ready men as a lone officer awaited the 'okay' to close the doors.

I slipped into the driver's seat unnoticed, unquestioned. My instructions for the real driver, who I discovered the identity of over the police scanner, had been simply that he was decommissioned from the convoy. It had been much to his relief, and his reaction was much to my disgust. But then, these cops were just as normal as any other cops, as the Chicago cops I used to work with; they were just expected to do more.

And transporting the supposed Batman through Gotham City at night while the Joker was on the loose, desperate to get his hands on the two-faced man, was definitely more.

It didn't take long until Harvey was escorted out in handcuffs by two police officers on either side and followed closely by Rachel. It was obvious from my view of them in the side mirror that she was arguing with him; she knew, too, that he wasn't Batman. She had to, everyone knew the two had been dating for some time. Something like that would be a bit obvious.

The clapping that followed Harvey out made my gloved hand grip the steering wheel harder. My cops, clapping for Batman turning himself in. What if that was the real Batman? Did they understand how badly Gotham needed it's Dark Savior? Obviously not.

My 'partner' hopped into the passenger seat, distracting me from the scene of Harvey flipping a coin into Rachel's open hands before the back door slammed shut. "Hope you got some moves," he commented as he set down his shotgun and pulled on his mask after glancing over at me.

The head black-and-white of the extensive and heavily guarded, though not guarded enough, not until Batman arrived, pulled out, leading the rest of us to follow.

"Obstruction ahead, obstruction ahead. Divert down to lower 5th. I repeat all units divert down to onto lower 5th. Exit down!"

"Lower 5th?" the S.W.A.T. questioned worriedly as he glanced at me. "We'll be like turkeys on Thanksgiving down there."

If I wasn't already in such a bad mood, pissed off at the cops I put enough faith in, I would've smiled underneath my mask. But as the man glanced back out the windshield to stare at the 'obstruction,' I noticed that I must look all business. In all honesty, I was. I was ready and anticipating the Joker at full force. I had to be on my toes.

It was why I only took a momentary glance at the burning fire engine we drove past before descending into the lower level; it didn't come as a surprise.

The trouble was just about to begin.

I didn't jump, unlike the S.W.A.T. next to me, when we both heard the slam of metal, the crunch of concrete, the wobble of sirens, and the skidding of tires. _Here comes the heat._ Suddenly the van was rammed from behind, sending both of us in the front forward. I recovered first, my 'partner' muttering, "Jesus."

Life for Harvey Dent and the S.W.A.T. in the holding van with him was about to become living hell.

And I had to make sure all of us didn't die.

The S.W.A.T. pulled up his mask. "Come on, get us out of here, let's go."

Another ram.

He grabbed the radio, "Listen, we need backup. We've got company."

I was focused, despite my most visible passenger's uneasiness as my fingers gripped the steering wheel harder, determined not to let this armored truck crash.

And there it was. Hell itself, waiting for me, for us, while we were stuck in purgatory.

A semi-truck suddenly bulldozed straight into the side of the S.W.A.T. van in front of us, sending it into the river we were passing over. I didn't want to watch the van full of good men veer off into the dark water nor could I have. My eyes remained on the road, managing to stay out of the way of the turning truck as it lined up in the lane next to us, leaving the semi truck labeled 'S-Laughter is the best medicine' separated from us by concrete pillars every few dozen feet.

"What the hell was that?" the man next to me asked naïvely as the semi smashed into a car that was in its way. I cringed.

And then the side door slid open, making it impossible to read the disturbing message. But then, once both my passenger and I saw who was standing inside, we could care less what the psycho had written.

The Joker. Armed.

I glanced back to the road to keep an eye on where I was going when I heard the gun shots. My partner leaned forward to cover his ears, but I turned fully to look out the window as the painted madman shot at Harvey Dent, hidden behind layers of steel that would hopefully keep him safe.

I slammed on the brakes as it was obvious the black-and-white in front of us wasn't going to help by speeding up, which earned another ram from the garbage truck behind us.

The Joker was handed a bigger gun from one of his 'associates.'

A few more shots before he gave up. At least he wasn't firing at me…yet.

"What is that?" the S.W.A.T. next to me asked aloud nervously.

I quickly glanced to the semi to see the Joker aiming an RPG. Shit.

"A bazooka?"

I didn't have time to be annoyed at the S.W.A.T.'s lack of intelligence as the Joker fired, and instead of hitting the van, as I feared, he hit the first black-and-white in front of us, leaving the last one remaining driving slower in fear.

_Goddamnit! Speed up!_

"I didn't sign up for this!"

_Coward_, was the only thought I could lend to his exclamation as I prepared myself to plow through the black-and-white that was doomed to be the next target of the Joker's RPG.

Another blast caused the cruiser in front of us to flip and topple over as it burst into flames, and taking a gulp, I plowed past it.

_Stay focused, you knew this wasn't going to be easy and bloodless._

I focused again, heeding my own words, and realized that now there was space. A break.

Now if only this damn van could go faster than a semi.

And there he was, thank God. That same tank I had driven nearly a year before came roaring down the underground road directly at us.

"Look out," my worried passenger exclaimed as this time I let a smirk slip. "Look out!"

Swerving suddenly to the right before he could finish his second cry, the black tank roared past us and slammed straight into the garbage truck with a deafening thunder of the machine crumbling and a scream of screeching metal. Perfect.

I glanced at the Joker, who was busy watching the tank, before glancing in the side mirror. It was headed back, at full speed.

"Come on, let's go!" Surprisingly, the S.W.A.T. next to me brought me back from my small second of hope, reminding me that the Joker was still next to us and still armed with an RPG. Weaving through the cars that littered the double-lane road, I slammed my foot to the floor.

The semi did, too.

It quickly caught up to us and even passed us enough as to where I no longer had to fully turn my head to keep an eye on the psycho. He was aimed and ready to fire as I lifted my foot from the gas to hover over the brake.

Luckily, with speed came clumsiness, and the semi smashed into a car, causing the Joker to stumble and not take his shot. My foot slammed to the floor again, but the semi kept even.

_Batman, hurry._

He was still coming, I could still spot him weaving through cars in my review mirror. And then I glanced to the Joker, who was aimed again and fired before I could even think about hitting the brakes.

I cringed, expecting a lot of pain, but instead, only the sound of the explosion reached my ears instead of the impact of it. I opened my eyes and glanced in the side mirrors to find the tank on fire as it swerved out of control and through a concrete barrier. My eyes finally returned to the road as my hands gripped the wheel hard, trying to control the swerving van as a result of the force of the explosion as I hit the breaks to watch what I had seen in my side mirrors, to confirm it. My hope dwindled as we slowed to a stop and a thundering crash echoed through the tunnel, hinting to the fate of the tank and the Batman within it as well as when I spotted a man in a purple suit hop out of the trailer of the stopped semi.

Time to go.

I hit the acceleration and sped down the road, but of course the semi quickly caught up and was on our tail.

"We've got to get topside, we need air support now!" I nodded before turning the wheel hard to the right, actually agreeing with my 'partner' for once, to head up the ramp and drive along the taller buildings and skyscrapers of downtown Gotham.

As soon as we rounded the corner, the headlight of the helicopter greeted our eyes. The S.W.A.T., who now had his shotgun in hand, leaned forward with a confident grin on his face. "Now that's more like it. Air Calv." I wasn't as sure that one helicopter was going to cut it.

The semi was a little further behind us, the turns had been harder for them than for us, as I sped towards the low flying helicopter, desperate for aid since it appeared Batman was out of commission at the moment.

And then it happened: worst case scenario. The helicopter caught on something and suddenly spun wildly out of control before slamming into a building.

"That's not good." _No shit, Sherlock._ The helicopter lowered as it still spun wildly towards us. "Okay, that's not good!" It quickly hit the ground and burst into flames as I held my breath, clenched my jaw, and tightened my grip before plowing past it as it slammed right into the front of the van. How many things on fire have I plowed past now?

And suddenly, when my hope was greatly diminishing for the safety of everyone in this van, especially Harvey Dent, an explosion occurred ahead as a black object darted out into the middle of the street. It came to a halt, and the wind caught the cape behind it. Batman.

He sped straight past us and instead of focusing on the road, I focused on him in my side mirrors. He headed straight for the semi at full speed, but before he collided with the machine that would indefinitely crush him, he darted off to the side and slipped underneath the truck trailer before swerving in between light poles alone the street behind the still moving semi. The Batman reached the far building at the end of the street and stopped, he was only a small figure by now in the mirror. I released my foot from the gas and slowed, confused as to what the point of that was.

And then the giant semi truck flipped, it's back wheels completing the 180 degrees to land the trailer on the asphalt.

There was my cue.

I slammed on the brakes to pull the armored car to a stop. "You can't stop here, we're like sitting ducks!" Refraining from arguing with the S.W.A.T., I pulled off my goggle face mask and handed it to him before grabbing the gun next to him and jumping into the street.

I took off at a run, trying to cover the couple of blocks between the van and the overturned semi in the shortest amount of time as possible. Without bothering to remove the lower half of my mask, my eyes narrowed behind the lighter glasses I had grabbed from my desk the night before as I focused on the truck. The Joker scrambled out from the side of the truck and stumbled as he fired his gun randomly into the air, moving towards the front of the truck. I adjusted my running path towards one side of the street to not only remain unseen, but to keep an eye on everything that was happening.

The roar of the Batman's new vehicle gradually reached my ears over the sound of the Joker's sporadic gun shots. It was then I noticed a couple of the Joker's goons crawling out from the wreckage. I'd have to go from the clown to get them all.

The Joker. Armed. Great.

And suddenly, there was the Bat, headed straight for the Joker. And at that point, I paused in my run, leaving me nearly a hundred yards away from the scene. _Don't do it, don't hit him._ The Batman's yell sent a shiver down my spine as I watched him swerve dangerously to the side, and not stop swerving as sparks flew from underneath him until he slammed into the front of the semi and rolled off the battered motorcycle, as I now realized what it was. I glanced back to the Joker as he watched the Batman, smacking his lips as he pulled out a knife, before I took off at a sprint.

Batman wasn't getting up.

My eyes narrowed as I quicken my stride when I witnessed one of the goons roll the masked vigilante over and attempt to take off his mask, only to receive an electric shock that was strong enough to make him jump and stumble backwards. The Joker darted forward, jumping over the hero and giggling, sputtering, and spitting at the abused thug.

Ten yards.

He hopped back over Batman and leaned over as he grabbed the masked man's barely conscious head and pulled it towards his blade.

I stopped behind him, cocking the shotgun as I shoved it against the back of his neck.

"Ahhhggg! Could you please just give me a minute-!" the psycho complained, turning his head as he held his knife up in the air.

I grabbed his shoulder and threw him down on the ground before standing over him, aiming the shotgun fiercely at him. All the lives he'd taken tonight, all the chaos he'd reigned, it was going to end with his arrest. My breath still came heavy as I tried to recover from the sprint, but it didn't keep me from holding back my words. "We got you, you son of a bitch."

That painted face looked up at me with a serious expression, but an amused gleam in his beady black eyes that I doubted would ever leave, as he dropped the knife in his hand to expose both of his gloved palms to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move.

I dared to take my eyes off the clown to see Batman standing next to me, alive and well and still Batman. I glanced behind us to find the two surviving thugs seated against the truck with their hands behind their backs.

"Gordon."

I glanced back to the man that I trusted more than I should have, easily noticing the hesitation in his husky low voice. It was the first, and probably the last, time I could surprise Batman. "You weren't really going to turn yourself in, were you?"

His dark eyes turned away from me to look at the now giggling clown beneath me as the Bat remained silent. His silence was an answer I didn't want; Harvey alone came up with this plan.

Harvey.

"Harvey's still in the van," I said quickly before taking off at a run towards the armored truck that had its lights still flashing as I switched my glasses to my more comfortable and accurate ones.

Once I reached the door, I threw open the door to reveal both Harvey's and the S.W.A.T.'s very scared and then shocked expressions as they comprehended who they were seeing.

"Gordon…" Harvey breathed, recovering from the stroke he nearly had when I had ripped open the door to the vehicle that had been stopped for a couple of minutes. "You do like to play things pretty close to the chest."

I grinned, the first time I had grinned in weeks, hell, months, as I held out my hand to help him out. "We got him, Harvey."

I let the remaining two S.W.A.T. officers uncuff and keep an eye on Harvey as I headed back towards the wreckage. Batman was gone, but now all three clowns, two in masks and one in makeup, had their hands and legs bound as they were propped up against the side of the truck.

"It seems even you have a few tricks up your sleeve, lieutenant," the Joker said cooly with a hint of amusement laced in his words. "Even surprising the old Bat like that, pretty impressive."

I glanced to him as his beady little eyes met mine before looking down the street again, ignoring his remarks and occasional giggles as I finally relaxed for the first time in days. The Joker was in custody, the Batman was still masked, and I could finally go home and see my wife and kids.

The only problem was the inexplicable feeling of dread that I felt.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**  
Boy, do the hours fly when you're writing. Sorry if it gets a little sloppy towards the end, but this story was written in the wee hours of the morning. Like it, hate it? Please review._


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